Who was Lost and is Found

more, while these two ladies sat together and listened. And then the shadow of a man crossed the open window—a little man—who, not knowing he was seen, paused to wipe h

ess. It will only be something about

hands. “And if it’s any comfort,” she said, “when you’re sitting alone and thinkin

Susie—God bless yo

smile beaming out of the tearfulness of her face, “a

ery cheerful mission, nor one which he had undertaken with any alacrity. It was not that Mrs Ogilvy’s income had sustained any diminution, or that he had a tale of failing dividends and bad investments{50} to tell. What she had was invested in the soundest securities. It did not perhaps bring her in as much as would now be thought necessary; but it was as safe as the Bank of England, and the Bank of Scotland, and the British Linen Company, all rolled into one. Her income scarcely varied a pound year by year. There was very little for her man of business to do but to receive the modest dividends and send her the money as she required it. She would have nothing to do with banks and cheque-books. She liked always to have a little money in the house—but there was little necessity for frequent meetings between her and the manager of her affairs. He would sometimes come in on rare occasions when he had taken a long walk into the country: but Mr Somerville was not so young as he once had been,

e little likely to forget—a commission that you charged

ce changed in a moment. She said nothing, nor was it necessary: her look, the changed pose of her

east, for the first time, it appears to me that it is something in the shape of a clue. I have been very cautious, ac

ow, I

for something. He tried{52} his breast-pocket, and his tail-pockets, and all the other mysterious places in which things can

gh, which was something like the breath of patience concentrated and condensed. She was perfectly still when he went back again, full

ittances home, and expenses out, and money for the starting of farms, and so forth,—and then being laid open to the temptation of American investments, which, as a rule, pay very well, and all our poor customers just gi

and,” Mrs

d the wild West, just a ramshackle sort of a place, half built, and not a comfortable house in it. But they’ve got a

tle gestures made over it. A glance would have been enough to show her what it was. But no, let pa

ing, when I first came into the office, this thing was lying on my table. I had glanced at it, and taken what was of use in it yesterday. It’s just a wonder how it got there again. I gave another glance at it by pure chance, if you’ll believe me, as I slipped on m

him as if his client had fainted. Her face was

been more than she could bear. What can I

and, and with the other pointed to the paper. Somethin

ief that she could speak and see. He took up the p

ishmen abroad. Our fathers would never have stood it; but what can you do? it’s handiest when all’s said—an Englishman that had been about a ranch, and had been a miner, and had been a coach-driver, and I don’t know all what; but

h. She signed for the paper, rais

s much disturbed. He let her take the paper because he could not resist it, and then he went of his own accord and rang the bell. “Will ye bring a little w

been done—no accident, but cold-blooded murder, and the names given were of men more or less involved. The last of these, perhaps, therefore, the least guilty, was this man of many names, Robert Ogilvy—oh, to see it there in such a record! The bonnie name, all breathi

s had a bit shock. She will be better, better directly. Just do everything you ca

l of it. Janet, take it way. I have got some news that I will tell you after. Mr Somervi

ash. I should have broken it to you more gently: a wee drop of wine, i

think.” And then out of that bitterness of death there

st what I thought—my old friend’s name, douce honest man! t

back to her f

ld place. They cannot be on their p’s and q’s as we are, choosing their company. I am a decent woman myself, and

was a weak side, he would be upon that; he would be helping somebody. Him—murder a man! You were his father’s friend, I know; bu

an—and then he stopped short. Had not shame already been busy with Robbie Ogilvy’s name? But how

e best defence, the best advocate. You will send somebody{58} out at once without losing a day. Oh, I’m old, I’m weak, I’m an old woman th

you will see, none of them were taken. Not the chief person, who will doubtless be a very different sort of person, nor—any of the others. They will all be away from that place like the lightning. They will not bide to be put thr

you are well meaning, Mr Somerville, and not an injudicious person in business so far as I have seen. You will write to no correspondents. There must be sharp fellows here, and men t

uld be better. I might even cable to our correspondents: tha

the other. You can do bot

y expensiv

that is in question. It will be the quickest way. Cable or telegraph, or whatever you call it; and

” he cried, pantin

r only child, that was in question. And I will

said Mr Somerville, with an in

just did more on that day than any{60} other, healing and saving: and would He put it against me? Oh no! I ken Him too well for that. But since it’s not a lawf

to hurry away,” said the old gentleman re

did not think of that; and you’ve had a hot journey out here, and nothing to refresh you. Forgive me, t

that in your life before. But it’s best I should go. There’s a train in half an hour. I’ll take a glass of the

to your dinner,

nd you could not endure to see

This{61} was a relief to her, in the unexampled contingency of sending a visitor un

sometimes pausing to look round, sometimes stooping to throw away a withered leaf, but always resuming that restless walk which was so unlike her usual tranquillity. She had her hand pressed upon her side, as one might press a handkerchief upon a wound. And indeed she had the stroke of a sword in her heart, and the life-blood flowing. Robert Ogilvy, Robbie Ogilvy, the bonnie name! and after the silence of fifteen years to hear it now as in the ‘Hue and Cry,’ at the end of all that long string of awf

him now, but saw him pass and pass again as if it were the merest accident. It was not until she had seen him pass three or four times that her attention was roused. A big figure, not one she could identify with any of the usual passers-by, strangely clad, and carrying a cloak folded over one shoulder. A cloak? what could a man like that want with a cloak—an old-fashioned cumbrous thing. Whatever{63} he wanted, he kept his face towards the Hewan. Sometimes he passed very slow, lingering at every step; sometimes very fast, as if he were pursued. Other figures went and came—the farmers’ gigs, a few carriages of the gentry going home. It was late, though